A Fateful Imperial Audience

In February 1530, during the ninth year of Emperor Jiajing’s reign, the imperial court witnessed a pivotal moment that would shape Ming politics for decades. The emperor summoned Zhang Cong, his trusted senior advisor, and handed him a memorial with cryptic instructions: “Review this carefully at home and report back to me later.”

What appeared routine would soon explode into one of the most consequential political rivalries of the mid-Ming period. The memorial proposed separating heaven and earth worship ceremonies—a seemingly arcane ritual matter that masked profound political implications. For Zhang Cong, who had built his career on ritual controversies, this represented not just policy disagreement but an existential threat to his hard-won power.

The Making of Political Rivals

Zhang Cong’s rise had been improbable. A mid-tier examination graduate, he leveraged expertise in ceremonial matters to become indispensable to the young Jiajing Emperor during the contentious “Great Rites Controversy.” His success inspired countless imitators, including the memorial’s author—Xia Yan.

Xia presented a stark contrast to the established minister. Though younger and lower-ranked as a Bureau Secretary in the Ministry of War, this Jiangxi native possessed three formidable advantages: striking good looks (historical records note his “well-proportioned features and magnificent beard”), impeccable command of court Mandarin, and—most dangerously—a razor-sharp tongue.

The emperor’s decision to route Xia’s memorial through Zhang was no accident. Jiajing, ever the political puppeteer, had begun shifting his favor. When Zhang’s faction counterattacked viciously against Xia, the emperor revealingly imprisoned Zhang’s ally instead of punishing Xia—a clear signal of changing tides.

The Art of Political Combat

What followed was a masterclass in Ming bureaucratic warfare. Zhang deployed “cage tactics”—constant surveillance and volleys of impeachment memorials to psychologically overwhelm opponents. Yet Xia turned these attacks into opportunities, his legendary eloquence dismantling each accusation with devastating precision.

Contemporary officials marveled at Xia’s combat skills, dubbing him “First in Battle Prowess.” His courtroom takedown of investigator Wang Hong became imperial legend—so fierce that accusers began avoiding him in palace corridors. The reference to his courtesy name “Gongjin” (shared with famed Three Kingdoms general Zhou Yu) evolved into jokes suggesting he rename himself “Zilong”—the undaunted Zhao Yun of Shu Han.

Meanwhile, Zhang overplayed his hand. His attempt to monopolize power through faction-building backfired spectacularly. The emperor, ever wary of overmighty subjects, began cooling toward his once-indispensable minister. Zhang’s disastrous proposal to downgrade Confucius’s status—attacked brilliantly by rising star Xu Jie—marked his final political miscalculation.

The Trap That Backfired

Zhang’s desperation birthed an elaborate conspiracy. Using intermediary Peng Ze, he manipulated Xia’s associate Xue Kan into submitting a memorial tactlessly addressing the emperor’s lack of male heirs—a forbidden topic. The plan: implicate Xia as instigator.

The scheme unraveled spectacularly when Xue, under interrogation, exposed Peng’s role. The courtroom descended into chaos as Xia physically threatened investigators and openly challenged Zhang. Even the emperor’s intervention couldn’t salvage the plot—investigators ultimately cleared Xia, condemning Zhang’s faction for fabrication.

The aftermath proved devastating:
– Zhang Cong: Political credibility destroyed, forced into retirement
– Peng Ze: Exiled to military frontier service
– Xue Kan: Stripped of official status
– Xia Yan: Emerged unscathed, his stature enhanced

The Second Puppet Takes Stage

By 1536, Xia Yan ascended to Grand Secretary—the new favorite in Jiajing’s political theater. Unlike Zhang, Xia combined administrative brilliance with personal integrity. His early career showed remarkable courage, taking on imperial relatives like the notoriously corrupt Zhang Yanling. As minister, he spearheaded anti-corruption drives that transformed bureaucratic culture.

Yet power intoxicated even this principled official. Xia’s rigid self-righteousness and growing authoritarianism sowed seeds of future downfall. His clashes with military commissioner Guo Xun hinted at troubles ahead, foreshadowing the destructive factionalism that would plague late Jiajing reign.

Legacy of a Political Earthquake

This decade-long struggle reshaped Ming governance. Zhang Cong’s exit marked the end of Great Rites faction dominance, while Xia Yan’s rise heralded a brief era of competent administration. The conflict also institutionalized vicious factional tactics that would plague the dynasty.

Most significantly, it revealed Jiajing’s governing style—orchestrating ministerial rivalries to prevent any challenge to imperial authority. As both Zhang and Xia would learn, the emperor’s favor was as fleeting as it was absolute. The stage was now set for even more brutal power struggles, with new players like the cunning Yan Song waiting in the wings.

The bells that tolled for Zhang Cong served notice: in Jiajing’s court, today’s victor could become tomorrow’s victim, and political survival required more than just talent—it demanded understanding the mercurial mind ensconced in the Forbidden City’s innermost chambers.